Naked Came the X Wing
by NeoVenus22
Summary: Jersey Trilogy meets Star Wars trilogy, most likely with disasterous consequences. Language.
1. Trailer

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away...  
Er...  
Last week sometime, down at the Quick Stop...  
  
***  
  
The two greatest trilogies known to man collide catastrophically in the single scariest piece of fanfiction to come out of Binghamton, NY, in at least a month...  
  
*cue theme music!*  
  
*do do do doooo do! do do do doooo do! do do do doooo do! do do do do...*  
  
  
JERSEY WARS  
Episode One: Naked Came the X-Wing  
  
STARRING  
Randal Skywalker  
Princess Alyssa Organa  
Holden Solo -and- Chewbanky  
  
*Intrepid Heroes!*  
  
Darth Hamilton  
LaFours the Hutt  
Brodie Fett  
  
*Nefarious Villains!*  
  
Dante-Wan Hicks Kenobi  
Jedi Master Willam "Yoda" Black  
  
*Guys Who Know Things!*  
  
Also featuring...  
J3PO and  
R2Bob2 in his most controversial role ever!  
  
JERSEY WARS  
  
"This movie is filled with hacks and nonames, but they're doing their best." -Don Cheadle, actor-type person  
  
"Shit. Pure shit." -Kevin's Mom  
  
Coming this August!  
(This fic is not yet rated.) 


	2. Chapter One

I promised an August release and an August release this fic shall have. This fic was originally intended to be a collaboration (hence the "Naked Came the..." title), but I decided that I didn't want to give up that much creative say in order to receive editorial power. But the title rocked, so I'm keeping it. Please don't steal it.  
  
Disclaimer: a statement made to save one's own ass.  
*Star Wars, its respective characters and plots, do not belong to me. I am not George Lucas, do not work for ILM, etc., etc., etc.  
*View Askew, its respective characters and plots, do not belong to me, either. I am not Kevin Smith, do not have any affiliations with Miramax, etc., etc., etc.  
*Any other copyrighted names or products I may have mentioned in this trifle of a fic receive no financial contributions from this. Don't be fooled. It's just a story. If I'm going to shamelessly plug something, you'll know.  
*The opening disclaimer was flat-out stolen from Dogma.  
  
That being said, kick back, relax, and enjoy the show. (And review, naturally.)  
  
***NAKED CAME THE X-WING***Chapter One***  
  
Last week sometime, in a Jersey suburb, a young man by the name of Randal Skywalker lived with his cousin Walter. He waltzed to work at the Quick Stop, although he didn't actually waltz, because that would have been ridiculous and he would have gotten fired. Randal wouldn't have minded losing his job, although he got to womp rats in the alleyway during breaks, the position was really mind-numbing and an insult to his above-average (or so he liked to think) intelligence.  
  
However, Randal's cagey cousin had no job to speak of, had no friends, no girlfriend, no family other than Randal, and no real life that anyone could determine. Their only source of income, one that was spent mostly on electronic parts that were all the rage to collect in that deserted Jersey suburb, though the cunning cousins had no idea what they were for or how to use them. Food was obtained through Randal's skilled hands and bulky shirts. No one at the Quick Stop ever questioned why Randal smelled peculiarly of snack cake; or wondered how on earth he'd gained so much weight in an eight-hour shift, which he spent with feet propped on counter, napping; or asked how come Randal crinkled when he walked. The fact of the matter was that Randal worked with imbeciles, but that's really another story for another time.  
  
On this particular day in question, though to say that a day in question is a particular day is really quite obvious and redundant and therefore totally unnecessary, Randal was working all alone in the empty Quick Stop, with zero customers, bad television reception, and stale corn chips. He was trying to see how fast he could twiddle his thumbs when the little bell-thingy over the door rang, signaling a fat brown cow ripe for slaughter--that is, a customer, lonely, lost, thirsty, and without the common sense to not pay these outrageous prices for a lukewarm can of Gatorade.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
Randal was now severely distracted by a collection of chocolate sprinkles near the garbage can. He ignored the man waiting at the counter and bent over to investigate.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
Randal inched towards the trash receptacle on hands and knees, eyes squinted in confusion. He leaned close. He inhaled.  
  
"Ex-*cuse* me."  
  
Randal picked up a sprinkle in his hand.  
  
"EXCUSE ME!" the customer shouted, as Randal simultaneously cried out, "Oh, shit!" For that was what he had picked up, a piece of rat shit. He dropped it, stood up, and wiped his hand frantically on the customers white toga-thingy.  
  
"HEY!" the man said, pulling away irritably. "Watch what you're doing there, clerk."  
  
Randal took the man in, and we don't mean that in a sexual sense, you perverts. The guy was a little on the short side, with dark hair done like a mullet, short on top, the remainder of it pulled into a short and tacky ponytail. He had a thick, dark beard and mustache.  
  
"Watch who you're calling clerk, man," Randal said, plunking himself back into his seat.  
  
"Are you not behind the counter?" the man in the brown robes asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And are you getting paid?"  
  
"Two for two, bucko."  
  
"Then you're a clerk. So stop being a wiseass and serve me. Get me some death sticks."  
  
"Hey, aren't you one of those Jedi guys?"  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"Then you shouldn't be smoking those things."  
  
"I don't smoke those things. I'm just getting them for a friend."  
  
"Sure you are," Randal drawled disbelievingly.  
  
The guy in the brown robes waved his hand before Randal's face. "You will sell me the death sticks."  
  
"I...will sell you the death sticks," Randal echoed, suddenly overcome with the urge to sell this weird dude cancerous treats.  
  
"For a discount," the man in brown said as an afterthought.  
  
"Would you like a discount sir," Randal said robotically.  
  
"Why, yes, thanks you," the man said, accepting the package from Randal. He started to go t the door, then turned, waved his hand again, and said, "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes."  
  
Randal stood and started to unbutton his flannel shirt. "I am...getting so hot. I'm going to take my clothes off."  
  
The man in brown laughed. "That gets funnier every time." He reached for the door.  
  
Randal snapped out of it. "Hey!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What the hell kind of pervert are you? Making me fucking strip like that, you psycho. What gives?"  
  
"A Jedi's gotta have fun somehow. Saving the universe isn't all it's cracked up to be."  
  
"Better than this place," Randal grumbled.  
  
"Wanna bet?"  
  
"I bet you couldn't handle a day in this place."  
  
"I bet you couldn't handle a Gungan peace treaty."  
  
"You're on."  
  
***  
  
So it came to be that the intrepid Jedi Knight and the spunky minimum wage employee started a friendship and an adventure that would lead to the ends of the universe and back...  
  
"Wait a sec, isn't this story supposed to start out with a hot princess and a fat little droid?"  
  
***FIN*** 


End file.
